Miss Finster Gets A New Snitch
by Zazu Hyena And Nny Fan
Summary: It seems that Randall has lost his job. Is his job gone for good? Does Miss Finster not care about him anymore or is something else going on?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've been working on this story since January and I'm glad it's finally done. There are some OCs, but they aren't the main characters.**

**Betaed by the awesome BRMM on the Recess forum.**

* * *

"I can't believe it! This is the third cookie he's gotten today!"

Douglas put down his binoculars as he watched Third Street's resident snitch get rewarded yet another treat from Miss Finster. He sighed and turned around to face the rest of the top area of Old Rusty and his friends. Lizzie was sitting on one side, leaning against the bars and playing with her long brown hair. Matt was opposite her, trying to get his Monstickers in order to put in with the rest of his collection.

"Well, we'reall out of cookies," said Lizzie, annoyed. She stopped playing with her hair and sat up straight before leaning over and grabbing the bag that previously held their cookies. She looked inside as if more would magically appear. Of course, they didn't and she pouted.

"Yeah, it's too bad you couldn't keep that snitching job with Miss Finster," Matt muttered. Douglas sent him a glare, but Matt didn't even bother to look up. He paused to push his glasses back up his nose and put one of his Monstickers into a plastic slip and put it in a pile. "There's got to be a better way to get free cookies and pudding anyway."

Douglas rested his chin in his hands. He had been about to give up when Miss Finster finally took him up on his offer to replace Randall. He had told her before of his desire to replace the red-head, and he even caught a few kids doing things they weren't supposed to, to prove to her that he'd be better. It seemed like she was ignoring him until that day. It didn't last long however. Not ten minutes later she took the little weasel back and kicked Douglas to the curb! The next day, Douglas couldn't help but notice Randall walk by, grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary. His anger began to simmer at the memory.

Douglas's train of thought was interrupted when he dimly heard someone climbing up the metal ladder up to the top of Old Rusty. He glanced up to see his third friend, Gilbert. There was a big grin on Gilbert's face and he was practically bouncing where he stood. "Hey guys! Lookit what—"

"There isn't." A crunching sound filled the area as Lizzie crumpled the bag. "If he could get that job then we'd have a whole bag of cookies every day! And that's not even including the pudding and whatever else he'd get!"

"Maybe…"

"Guys!"

"Maybe?! I _know_ he'd make more cookies than Weems. He has those new binoculars that have a light on them! Don't _you_?"

Douglas realized Lizzie was looking at him. He picked up his binoculars and moved the eye pieces around. "Yeah. They weren't cheap."

"Guys!—"

"And," Lizzie continued, louder than she needed to, and turned back to Matt. "Remember that day we went to the mall? He saw that boy who was stealing almost half an hour before the store noticed." She crushed the bag into a tight ball before throwing it into the air and catching it. "So, I'm sure he'd make at least a few cookies every day." Douglas thought that if Randall could do it, he could too. It couldn't be too hard to catch a few kids every day. He stayed quiet, though, perfectly fine to hang back and listen to his friends talk.

"_Guuuys?_" Gilbert was visibly pouting now and Douglas tried hard not to laugh at him. Sometimes he could be so overdramatic.

Matt gathered his Monstickers and placed them in a small metal container before finally looking up. "Yeah, but…Well…If he did get the job then…" He scrunched up his face in thought for a moment before turning to Douglas. However, Douglas frowned. He had no idea what his friend was trying to get at. So, he turned to Lizzie. She and Matt had been friends for longer than any of them and sometimes they could just about read each other's minds. She looked back at him, just as confused.

Then, her face lit up as she understood. "Oh, come on! Of course _we_ wouldn't get into any trouble. Other kids will get caught. Not us. Though," She leaned back and tapped her lips, "maybe it would be worth it if we got caught for something small if we'd get a bunch of cookies. Hmm…"

"Hmph! Well, fine then! See if I care!" Gilbert practically strutted past them and sat down in a corner. Douglas wasn't worried about him. If it was something important he'd start bugging them about it again in a few minutes.

Matt grabbed the lid to his container and pushed it closed. "Well, it doesn't really matter anyway. He lost his chance. Miss Finster hasn't come to him again and Randall's been catching enough kids that she probably won't any time soon. So, it doesn't matter."

Douglas narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to just give up." The memory of Randall's smug face flashed in front of him and he clenched his fists. "I just have to get her attention at the right time. If we could get him out of the way somehow…"

This time, it was Lizzie's turn to frown. "But how—"

All of them jumped when loud static filled the air and they turned toward Gilbert. "Oops." The boy said sheepishly as he fiddled with a dial on a plastic, dark gray object.

Matt shifted and leaned closer to get a better look at it. "What is that?"

Gilbert flashed him a large, toothy grin. "Oh? So now you want to know what I got? Well, maybe I won't tell you now that you—Hey!" He rubbed where the balled-up bag hit him in the forehead and glared at Lizzie. She covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a giggle.

"Okay! Okay! Fine!" Gilbert's eyes lit up and he beamed with excitement, clearly more than happy to show off what he had. "The birthday present from my uncle finally came!" He grabbed the antenna on the device and pulled it out to its full length. "They're walkie talkies! He says they're the best ones on the market. They can reach, like, a million miles…or something…" He gestured to the small booklet in his lap. "I don't know. It says in there. And," he reached into the large pocket on his hoodie and pulled out two more walkie talkies, "there's enough for all of us!" The boy stuck his hand back into his pocket and started to root around for the fourth one. Matt and Lizzie both came over and they each grabbed one of the walkie talkies and started playing around with them.

Douglas didn't get up. Something seemed to click in his mind. He could almost feel a light bulb turn on above his head. It seemed so perfect. After all, if four eyes were better two then eight eyes would be much better. "I think…I think I know how…"

* * *

Randall carefully pushed the branches aside as he crawled into the bush, keeping himself out of sight from the large hole in the ground just a few yards ahead. The first rule of spying was finding a good hiding spot and making sure you weren't seen. And, since Randall could only see out of a small area that wasn't obscured by branches, he doubted they could see him.

He rubbed his hands together in glee and reached down the grab his super cool spy listening device, only to feel a sharp pain.

"Ow!" Randall tried to be as quiet as he could since being quiet was spy rule number two. He pulled his arm back and scowled down at the white mark where the branch scratched him. Quickly, he rubbed it until it disappeared and tried again, this time being careful not to hit a branch. That probably wasn't the best sign, but he didn't see either of the Diggers coming out to investigate, so he stayed put.

He slipped the headphones on over his ears and turned the dial to turn on his listening device before aiming it at the hole. Unfortunately, he didn't hear anything yet. Some people just had the nerve to be quiet. Well, he'd wait it out!

He wondered what kind of information he might learn from them. He hadn't been having the best luck lately and he needed something extra moist. Maybe he'd learn about some secret stash of illegal digging tools that were hidden in one of their holes somewhere. That would be the best! Or maybe he'd hear about something they or someone else was planning on doing. He'd even take one of them saying a bad word. That would be better than noth – suddenly, his view was blocked by a big, fat caterpillar.

He easily hit the bug away and went back to listening in on the Diggers. He still didn't hear anything…wait. He didn't hear _anything_. Randall didn't hear talking, but he also didn't see or hear them digging. His listening dish couldn't be broken because he could hear other kids playing and the leaves on his bush rustling. Randall frowned and turned off his gadget. He didn't want to do what he was about to do - it went against the first rule after all - but he quietly crawled out of the bush and towards the hole.

He kept himself low to the ground, every so often stopping to listen to see if they heard him. Every time, it was completely silent. Finally, he reached the edge of the hole and slowly pulled himself closer until he could just see inside. The hole was empty. Randall pulled himself closer and looked around for any tunnels the Diggers could be hiding in. Nothing. That was weird. The Diggers rarely ever left their hole alone during recess. Randall stood up, scratching his head as he looked down into the hole. Where could the Diggers be then?

"What are you doing to our hole?!"

Randall jumped and nearly fell into the hole. It took him a moment to get his balance again before turning around. Both of the Diggers were standing there with their shovels and they both looked angry. "U-uh…Well…" He hadn't expected the Diggers to just show up and it took him a moment to think up a story. "I…I-I was making sure there wasn't anyone in there with candy," Randall finally finished, crossing his arms over his chest.

The Digger with the mouth guard around his neck – Randall could never tell the two of them apart – stepped forward. He hefted his shovel up threateningly and Randall froze. "Get out of here, Randall." Randall didn't need to be told twice. He turned and ran away.

He glanced back at them as they jumped back into their hole and he frowned. He didn't find out anything. And now they'd be on the lookout for him.

"Oof!" Randall bumped into someone hard enough to cause his headphones to fall off. He looked up to glare at whoever was in his way. "M-Miss Finster!"

"So, do you have anything for me today, Randall?" Her arms were crossed and she did not seem happy.

"Err…um…" He didn't have anything to tell her and he knew it. Still, he had to say something! Randall bit his lip as he frantically glanced around, looking for something he could tell her. She'd be angry with him if he couldn't come up with any dirt.

She sighed and he looked up. "Randall, it's been over a week and you haven't given me anything." Miss Finster sounded disappointed. Somehow, that was worse than her being angry. Randall stared down at the ground at his loafers. "You're off your game again…and I'm not sure for how long this time." Randall wasn't sure either. He'd never gone this long without catching anyone. Miss Finster was quiet for a moment and he wished the ground would just swallow him up. That would be better than standing here, knowing he had failed her. He stared down intently at his headphones as he waited for her to speak. They didn't look like they were too scuffed up too bad from their fall. "…Maybe…maybe you should take a break."

Randall's head shot up and he stared at her, his eyes wide with panic. "What?! No!"

Miss Finster seemed to come to a decision. "Yes. I want you to take a break and rest for a few days. Then you'll be refreshed and ready to fill out your snitch reports again." Randall wasn't so sure about this. A forced break felt like being retired. And what would Miss Finster do in the meantime? She seemed to sense his concern. "While you're gone, Douglas has volunteered to take over. He's already reported several miscreants."

Randall stiffened at the name. _Douglas_. He was the guy who tried to take Randall's job once. He'd been after it for a while before then, but Randall'd thought he had given up. This was even worse than being retired. He was being replaced! "B-but, Miss Finster, y-you can't do this to me!" He stopped when he felt his throat beginning to close up and he looked down at the ground again.

Miss Finster's eyes hardened. "Randall, it's only temporary. Douglas knows it's only until your break is over." That made Randall relax a bit. It would only be a couple of days and then everything would be back to normal, right? "Now quit worrying and make sure you're back on your game by Monday." He nodded slowly and she walked off.

What if he _couldn't_ get back on his game? He wasn't sure why he was off in the first place. Randall didn't think he was doing anything different. And yet, it seemed like every attempt at spying ended badly. Sometimes, he'd see whoever he was about to spy on looking for him. Somehow, they knew he was coming. Other times, he couldn't even find people. He tried spying on Swinger Girl the other day, but when he got to the swings she wasn't there. That wasn't normal. It was the same with Upside Down Girl.

Randall bent down and picked up his headphones. What now? Miss Finster wanted him to take a break, but he just couldn't. Maybe…if he could catch just one person doing something it would fix everything; it would prove that he wasn't off his game. Or, at least, not completely off. Even if she still made him take a break she couldn't possibly replace him then. He just had to find a good place to spy from. There was one good place he knew of off the top of his head.

He looked up at the top of Old Rusty. Someone was up there. Randall couldn't make out who, but whoever they were they quickly retreated into the shadows. He felt pretty sure that whoever they were, they had been watching him. Ther person looked like maybe they had blond hair and glasses, but that didn't really narrow down who it could be. He glared up at them. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about getting a bird's eye view on the playground. He'd looked up there a few times over the past week, but every time there was someone there. And he couldn't exactly spy on people if there was someone standing next to him.

"Hello, ex-weasel."

Randall turned to see exactly the person he didn't want to see. "What do you want, Douglas?"

The taller boy crossed his arms over his chest. "I heard you're no longer the snitch of Third Street." Randall narrowed his eyes and Douglas smirked. "I also heard who the new one is."

Randall waved him away dismissively with his headphones. "Yeah, yeah. I know it's only temporary." He turned to walk away; He wasn't going to stick around and let Douglas brag about him taking his job.

"Oh, is _that_ what she told you?"

Randall stopped and turned back around. "What? Of course it's—"

"That's if you can actually manage to snitch on anyone again," a smug Douglas told a scowling Randall. "Otherwise, you're useless to her. She might not want you back anyway."

Randall stomped his foot on the ground and threw his hands up in frustration. "Miss Finster and I have been working together since – since forever! Of course she'll want me back!" Randall's face scrunched up in anger. He didn't even want to think otherwise.

"Maybe…" Douglas tapped his chin in mock thought. "Or maybe she'll realize that you're the biggest slime ball in the whole school. And even she wouldn't want to work with someone who no one wants to be friends with. There's a reason you don't have any friends and maybe she figured out why."

Randall gritted his teeth. That had stung, but the comment reminded him of something that his dad once told him. "Snitches don't need friends! Miss Finster wouldn't want to work with someone who was too distracted by friends to hand in reports!" He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest, confident he had won. Randall knew the other boy had four friends. There was no way he could have all of those friends and still be able to work for Miss Finster.

Douglas merely shrugged and Randall's shoulders fell. "She said I've been doing a fine job. She even told me she wished she had hired me sooner. I know how to manage my time. I've even had time for others things."

"Like wha—"

Static buzzed suddenly and both boys jumped. A voice came through the static, but Randall couldn't make out who it was or even if it was a boy or a girl. Douglas had a slightly panicked look on his face and grabbed at something attached on his side.

"What's tha—"

Douglas was turned around so Randall couldn't see what he was grabbing at. "Oh, this? This is just a little present Miss Finster got me. She needed me to be able to come to her at any time." He pulled whatever it was out. It looked like something gray and Randall thought it was a walkie talkie, but Douglas's hand was around it too quickly, so he couldn't tell anything about it. "Well, I'm needed elsewhere, unlike you. Good-bye, ex-weasel."

Randall glared at the taller boy as he walked off. He couldn't help but feel a bit worried now.

That was it. He had to find someone to tattle on and he had to it now. He would not let Douglas replace him.

First, he had to find someone doing something wrong.

All around him, kids were playing and laughing. But Randall didn't see any illegal toys or anyone bullying anyone else or even anyone with candy. It might be a little harder than he thought. Briefly, he thought about just making something up to tell Miss Finster. It would certainly be easier. But he prided himself on not having to make things up to keep his job. Besides, if Miss Finster found out that he'd made things up, she'd be even more disappointed in him than she'd been just a bit ago.

Then something clicked. "TJ and Them!" Randall said suddenly. "Those guys are always up to something!" He grinned at his idea and put his headphones on over his ears. With any luck they'd be discussing their next plan to steal back their confiscated playthings. He wasn't exactly sure where they were, but he'd hunt them down eventually.

Randall had barely taken a step when a girl ran right into him. Stumbling, he grabbed onto his headphones so they wouldn't fall before glaring at her. She pushed her long, brown hair out of her face. "Oops! Sorry Randall." She giggled and ran off. She seemed to be holding something, but Randall couldn't see what.

He thought about going to Miss Finster. Then maybe he could get her in trouble! He liked that idea very much, but even if she did end up in trouble Randall doubted it would be enough to get him his job back. No, he had to focus on TJ and his friends. Then he'd tell on them _and_ the girl. He nodded to himself and continued his search.

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Randall pressed himself back against the side of the Cheese Box. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had done everything he could to make sure they didn't see him get into his hiding spot. He couldn't mess this up. After taking a moment to collect himself he turned and peered through the holes in the box. TJ and his friends were all hanging around the merry go round. They were talking about something, but Randall couldn't make out exactly what yet. He had to keep looking through different holes to see all of them. It made it harder to keep track of all of them, but he thought he counted all six of them. He settled down behind the Cheese Box and turned on his listening device.

The sounds were a little distorted from having to travel through the Cheese Box, but it didn't seem like they were talking about anything useful to Randall. His hunched shoulders fell and he started to worry even more. He knew he needed to pay attention to them, but he couldn't help but think back to what Douglas said.

Randall didn't want to think that Miss Finster liked Douglas at all, but if he was just a temporary replacement then why would Miss Finster get him a walkie talkie? Miss Finster knew that Randall wanted a walkie talkie, but she never got him one. Once, she had gotten him a pager, but after it broke in less than a week – it wasn't his fault that Gelman caught him and pushed him, making him land on it – she said it was too expensive to keep replacing it and that was that.

What if Miss Finster _did_ like Douglas? What if he really was better than Randall? Maybe…maybe she liked him more than Randall. Maybe that was why she was getting him things and saying that he was doing a good job. Maybe she really _wouldn't_ want Randall back. Just the thought made Randall feel nauseous. What would he do if that were true? He shook his head to clear it. No. He couldn't think like that. He had to concentrate on getting TJ and his friends in trouble and getting back in Miss Finster's good books!

He turned his attention back to his listening device. They still weren't discussing anything that could get them in trouble. Still, Randall was glad that they hadn't noticed him yet. With the luck he'd been having lately he would have thought Spinelli would have been threatening him by now…

Suddenly, Randall's stomach dropped. He pulled his face closer to the Cheese Box and frantically looked through the holes. He counted. 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5… Where was Spinelli?!

Something grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him up. He struggled to get away, but he was dragged out from behind the box.

"Look, I caught a rat!" The others had gotten up from the merry go round and had various expressions of anger on their faces. Spinelli finally let him go and he turned to glare at her. She glared back. "Quit spying on us, Randall!" She took a step towards him.

Randall waved his free hand in front of him. "I'm not spying!" None of them seemed to believe him for even a second. "I…I wanted help!"

"Help with what?" Tj said as Spinelli grumbled under her breath.

"Miss Finster's upset that I haven't been able to snitch on anyone lately. She replaced me with Douglas and it's going to be permanent unless I get back on my game!" Randall's head fell. He hadn't intended on telling TJ, but it all just sort of came out.

The others still looked angry, but TJ's expression softened. "Well, what could _we_ possibly do?"

An idea formed in Randall's head and he lit up. "You guys can make up some plan and then I can go to Miss Finster and tell her and you guys and can get in trouble and I'll get my job back!"

Spinelli responded by grabbing the back of his shirt and dragged him away from the merry go round. She pushed him away and he fell to his knees. "Next time I'll hurt you, Randall!"

Randall pushed himself up and dusted himself off. That didn't go well. What could he do now? If he couldn't find someone to tattle on, he had to figure out a way to get rid of Douglas. Maybe he could ruin Douglas's clean record. If he could show Miss Finster some bad things he's done she would have to take Randall back. Randall had access to the permanent records, but there were other files that even he couldn't get to by himself. And he wasn't the best at going through all of those files quickly.

Maybe getting help had some merit. Douglas was right; Randall didn't have any friends –_and he didn't need any! _– but he _did_ have another idea…

* * *

"No."

"What?! Why?!"

Randall stood in the doorway of the office, one hand still on the doorknob. He watched as Menlo stamped a paper and added it to the top of a large pile of papers. He had hoped that as soon as he told Menlo that he needed help, Menlo would drop everything and give him a hand. But that didn't seem to be happening.

Menlo stood up from behind his desk and picked up the stack. "I'm too busy to help you, Randall." He motioned towards a much larger pile on his desk and crossed the room to place the papers in a bin. "And that's not even all of it. I don't even know if I'll be able to finish it all today." He tiredly rubbed his eye underneath his glasses as he made his way back to his desk.

Randall scowled. He wasn't sure _what_ he and Menlo were. Once, they took over the playground together, but they hadn't really hung out since then. They _did_ talk whenever Randall came into the office. And sometimes he even put anything interesting he told him into the inter-office memos he wrote. Menlo even invited him to his birthday party. Randall didn't know a lot about having friends, but he knew that TJ and his pals were always doing stuff together. Still, Menlo was the closest thing to a friend Randall had and the only one who may have been willing to help him. Maybe that was why he felt betrayed that Menlo would rather stay in this office. "So? Do that tomorrow. This is important!"

Menlo fixed his glasses and shot a glare back at him. "This is important too. If I don't get these papers finished – and on time – the whole school could fall into chaos! It's very important!" He grabbed a paper from the top of the pile and a pen and started writing on it as Randall turned his glare to the door and swung it back and forth slightly, listening to the hinges squeak. How could Menlo say that a bunch of stupid papers were more important than Randall's career?

"This is more important than that!" Randall said. "If I can't get rid of Douglas I'll lose my job for good!" He quickly closed his mouth when he heard his voice start to break, and he hung his head low. Menlo paused for a moment before continuing work on the paper. Randall looked up and glared at him. "But I guess you don't care. You still have your stupid job! I bet Ms. Lemon still lik—"

"That's not it at all, Randall!" Menlo slammed his pen onto his desk and looked up at Randall before looking away again. "I just have a lot of work to do. Besides, I'm certain that you're overreacting. Miss Finster wouldn't replace you. That's absurd! If you'd just calm down you'd realize that." Menlo seemed to consider the matter done and returned to his work.

Randall gritted his teeth. How could Menlo do this to him? "That's fine, Menlo." He was surprised by how calm his own voice sounded. "I've figured out another way you can help anyway." Menlo looked up at him warily. "I think…I'm going to tell Miss Finster that you were chewing gum in here!"

Quickly, Randall slammed the door hard, but not fast enough. Just before the door closed he caught sight of Menlo's eyes filling with shock and hurt. He started to feel a little guilty, but he pushed the feeling away. It was Menlo's fault for not helping him!

Randall started walking down the empty hall, away from the office and Menlo. The thought of getting Menlo in trouble slightly eased the betrayal he felt a bit, but it didn't change the fact that he still didn't have his job back. He didn't want to do it. He knew it was naughty, but he didn't have any other options left. Randall couldn't spy on anyone without getting caught and he couldn't get to all of Douglas's files to ruin his credit without Menlo. That only left one option.

Randall would have to make up something to tell Miss Finster.

"…stupid Menlo…" he muttered. All this, because Menlo wouldn't help him.

Telling Miss Finster that Menlo was chewing gum didn't really count. She wouldn't really check to see if it was true, but it also wouldn't be enough to get him his job back. He'd have to make up something big. It made him queasy - if she found out he made up something serious she'd be _so_ disappointed in him. The possibility of getting his job back would be out of the question.

Finally, Randall got to the door and reached out for the doorknob. He heard something on the other side and froze. It was almost second nature to him to try to eavesdrop on whoever was on the other side. Luckily, he didn't have to strain his ears to listen in.

"How long do I have to wait out here?...But he's taking foreverrrrrrrrr!..." It sounded like whoever the voice belonged to was talking to someone, but Randall couldn't hear the other side of the conversation. "Can't we switch?...Come on! I can be a good look out!...Anyone can be a good look out from up there!..._You _can follow him around and make sure he doesn't get to report on anyone…..I don't want to switch tomorrow, I want to switch now!...Tough it out?! Why don't _you _tough it out over here?! I don't want to follow Lizard Boy around the rest of the day!"

Randall couldn't take anymore! He finally grabbed the doorknob and wrenched the door open.

It took Randall one look at his light hair and purple-red eyes for Randall to recognize him as Gilbert Schmidt. Between being a loudmouth and a troublemaker, it would have been hard for Randall to forget about him.

The taller boy was frozen in shock, staring up at Randall with his mouth hanging open, from the bottom of the steps. Still in his hand was the walkie talkie, and It looked like the one Douglas had. This time, Randall recognized it as one of the newest, best walkie talkies around. He'd seen them in spy magazines. They could get signals up to 20 miles away! But they were really expensive and Randall really only could have used two of them.

Randall narrowed his eyes and the other boy ran off. He made his way down the steps after the other boy was out of sight.

He couldn't believe it! How dare that…that hooligan… call him names?! And apparently Douglas was lending out the walkie talkies Miss Finster gave him to his friends, something Randall highly doubted that she would approve of.

So, Randall would go tell Miss Finster about this, about TJ and his little friends having some kind of plan, and about Menlo chewing gum. That had to be enough –

He only managed a few steps before what he had overheard fully sunk in.

Gilbert had been following him around. Gilbert – who, Randall remembered, was one of Douglas's friends – had been keeping him from reporting on anyone. He didn't know if he'd been doing it the whole week, but it didn't seem to matter. Randall also recalled that Douglass also had a friend with blond hair and glasses.

It was like the sun had broken through the clouds. Now everything made sense! That was why he hadn't been able to catch anyone! Gilbert had been going and warning people that he was coming…or something. He wasn't sure on the specifics, but he didn't care.

He grinned from ear to ear. This fixed everything!

Randall ran, looking around for Miss Finster. It would be easy. He'd just have to explain to her what he saw and that he wasn't off his game. Sure, it was a little crazy that Douglas got all of his little friends together to help him steal Randall's job, but Miss Finster had to believe him! He was sure she'd want to believe him over continuing to work with a thief. Right?

Randall rounded a corner of the building and stopped. There she was!

"Douglas!" Randall narrowed his eyes as Douglas ran over to Miss Finster and handed her a bunch of little slips. Well, those were going to be the last snitch reports Douglas ever handed in. He made to walk over to them, fully intending on Relaying Douglas's evil plot to Miss Finster right in front of him, when he stopped.

"Very good job, Douglas." Everything seemed to slow down for Randall. Miss Finster actually looked happy with Douglas. Randall stumbled back as his chest started to constrict and his eyes started to feel wet. He bit his lip, trying to take a deep breath and his throat started to become tight.

Miss Finster took out a big bag of cookies and handed them over to Douglas. The boy took the bag and grinned. "Thanks, Miss Finster!" Then she patted him on the head and he seemed to swell with pride, a self-satisfied smile spread across his face, as if it were perfectly normal for him to be receiving praise from her. Randall almost felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. It should have been him there, not Douglas! He should have been the one helping Miss Finster! Now it was like he didn't even exist anymore.

Randall's chest tightened painfully and he gripped the front of his shirt. Everything was becoming blurry, but that was better than continuing to see Douglas in his place. His throat was feeling so thick that it was almost painful to swallow.

How could this happen? Yeah, Douglas took his job, but somehow he thought that it would never be like him and Miss Finster. She just needed a temp for a couple of days. It would be strictly business. Now, it seemed like she had replaced him in every way. Now it was like she wanted to eat lunch with Douglas and give him things from the lost and found box. Now it was painfully clear that she liked Douglas. She and Douglas were a team. And Randall was…

Randall's tears finally overflowed and ran down his face. His legs felt wobbly, but he managed to finally turn and run away.


	2. Chapter 2

It was five minutes after school had ended when Menlo finally came out of the office. His arms were wrapped around a large pile of papers, so he pushed the office door closed with his hip before heading down the hall, towards the permanent records room. Aside from Menlo's footsteps the halls were silent. Teachers were in their offices, grading papers or packing up and kids who didn't have detention had already left.

Menlo was relieved to finally be done with the huge workload he'd had that day. He'd had so much work that he even missed class. Luckily, Scribe Kid was more than happy to take notes for him whenever he was absent, and Menlo had scheduled a time for catching up on work he'd missed, as he always did. That way, he was never behind.

Menlo was able to work straight through the day with few interruptions…with one exception.

_Randall._

Menlo was still upset at him. How could Randall lie and try to get him in trouble like that? Sure, they hadn't really done much together, but Menlo still considered Randall to be his friend. And friends don't like and try to get each other in trouble. Not to mention that it was against the rules to make things up.

Menlo wasn't as angry as he could have been, though. He had anticipated that Miss Finster would come into the office a few minutes after Randall left, but nothing ever came of Randall's threat. Really, Menlo was more annoyed that Randall had slammed the door when he left. He'd slammed it so hard that it made a loud racket that vibrated through the office, drawing the attention of Principal Prickly. And Prickly was angry at Menlo! He told him that he wasn't to let anyone slam the door, because he was in the middle of something important. Thankfully, that was all that happened. Despite his annoyance, Menlo was fairly sure Randall hadn't done it on purpose.

Looking back on it, Randall seemed genuinely upset, and Menlo didn't really understand why. Randall and Miss Finster had been working together since…well, since as long as he could remember. The thought that something as fundamental as that could change was crazy. It was like Menlo trying to go a day without his schedule book or without he favorite red-and-blue striped tie. He couldn't even imagine it!

Still, for whatever reason, Randall thought that this was a serious concern. Menlo couldn't just let his friend believe that. He'd have to talk to him and explain to him just why it was so ridiculous.

Menlo was just starting to get frustrated with the edges of his papers digging into his arms when he finally neared the permanent records room. A sudden thud coming from the room caused him to halt. Was someone in there? He realized that the door was ajar. In his exhausted state he must have missed that before. But, as far as Menlo knew, aside from the staff, the only ones with access to the room were himself and Randall. Randall was usually pretty good about not messing the room up, but after how upset he seemed today, Menlo was worried. With a burst of energy, he quickly reached the door and pulled it open the rest of the way…only to see something that made him almost drop his stack of papers right then and there.

The once neat and orderly room was in complete disarray. The cabinet drawers had been pulled almost all the way out, with files sticking half way up and other files lying on top. The floor was even worse. There were files all over the place. Some lucky folders were just lying haphazardly on the floor, the papers inside only sticking out. But most of the files looked like they had exploded. Folders were emptied, their contents spread across most of the floor. Menlo's eyes finally landed on the boy who was still going through one of the cabinets, glaring as he skimmed through the files and pulling some of them out half way to get a closer look. Menlo's eyes didn't stay there long, though. They were pulled back to the horrendous disaster that was the rest of the room.

"Where is it?!" Douglas growled, oblivious the Menlo's presence.

"What have you done?!" Menlo's voice was on the verge of hysterical.

The other boy nearly jumped and looked up. The panic disappeared from his face when he saw Menlo. "Oh. Hey, office boy, I need help finding something. Miss Finster gave me the key, but she didn't tell me where everything is." He glanced at the mess he'd made before returning to his search. "It's just a bit of a mess. It's fine."

"A mess?! It's a catastrophe!" Menlo couldn't stop looking at the utter chaos around him. Every folder exploded across the floor represented untold time spent putting it together and keeping it neat, tidy, and organized. Time that was now wasted.

Douglas rolled his eyes and started flipping through a few more files, when his eyes lit up and he grinned. "Hah! I found it! Now I can get some real dirt." He pulled the folder he was looking for out of the drawer.

Menlo finally snapped out of his shock and looked back at Douglas again. He only needed a glance to know whose file he was holding up. He dropped his papers, leaving a fairly neat pile on the floor, and was next to Douglas in a second, being careful not to step on any papers. Menlo grabbed the folder out of his hand.

"Hey!" The intruder turned and glared at him. "Give that back."

"Get out!" Menlo's eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

Douglas scowled. "It's just a mess. It isn't that big a deal."

Menlo glared so hard at Douglas he was almost worried he eyes would pop out. How dare he just come in here and mess up _his_ files and then have the nerve to say that?! His fingers dug into the folder, though he was cautious not to damage it. "Get. Out."

An eternity seemed to pass between the two boys in the silent room before Douglas looked away. "Fine. I don't need that anyway," he said before walking out of the room. Menlo's expression didn't let up as he kept his eyes one the other boy.

The room was quiet again as he stood there, keeping his sight on the doorway.

Finally, when he was sure Douglas was gone, he relaxed. He looked at the disaster around him again. It was going to take him forever to get everything back where it belonged. He sighed and looked down at Randall's file in his hands. Still, he was glad he'd kept this away from Douglas. Menlo would have to talk to Randall as soon as possible. He may have been right to be concerned.

* * *

A happy, yellow mountain stood out in a sea of white. There existed a happy village at the top of the mountain. The happy people in the village went about their everyday lives, humming little tunes as they shopped. Kids smiled as they met up with their friends played, laughing all the while. But not everything was as it seemed in the happy village.

The happy little people were unaware of their impending doom.

Suddenly, a shadow descended upon the mountain. The people stopped and looked up in confusion, but they were unable to react before the giant spoon came down. It pierced the mountain, slicing it into two. The people ran away, but those who weren't fast enough screamed as they fell into the giant fissure. Friends were separated forever. People would never get that special dinner they wanted because both the food and the person selling it had fallen victim to the fissure. They were all thinking the same thing: Why was this happening to them? Who was doing this? Why –

"So, Randall, did you finish your homework?"

Randall was pulled out of his daydream right as he was about to stab into his mac and cheese a second time. Back in reality, he was home, resting his head resting on the table and having dinner with his dad. And everything that had happened today really happened. He pushed the memories out of his head and nodded behind his arm before continuing to move his food around in his bowl.

It was a lie. Randall hadn't even taken his homework out of his backpack. After…well, after what happened, he had been exhausted. He spent the rest of the day in a daze, not really listening to anyone or anything, his only company being his pounding headache. When it was time to go home, Randall briefly thought about going to the mall and buying himself something. That usually cheered him up, but he was just too tired and all he really wanted was to just get home. Once home, he told his dad that he was going to do his homework, ran up to his room and took a nap. He didn't usually take a nap when he got home – naps were for kindergarteners – but he just wanted to make the day end, and besides, when he woke up his headache was gone. Now, the whole day felt like it was far away.

"You know, junior, I believe your mother's right about those Swansons. They're definitely up to something. Maybe you and I can surveil them after dinner."

Randall didn't respond. He continued playing with his food, smushing it down until all the mac and cheese was flat. Under normal circumstances, Randall would have enjoyed watching them with his dad, but right now the thought of spying on people just made him think of school and Miss Finster. Aside from the squishing of his food, the kitchen was quiet.

Randall's dad put down his spoon. "Aren't you hungry? I thought you liked macaroni and cheese."

Randall just shrugged, keeping his eyes on his plate. He did like mac and cheese – and his dad made the best! – but he didn't really have the energy to eat it.

"…Randy, is something wrong?"

Randall finally glanced up at his dad and immediately wished he hadn't. He looked sad, and Randall suddenly felt bad about not telling him. But he just couldn't! Telling him about what happened meant thinking about it, and Randall really didn't want to do that. And it would all be for nothing because Randall couldn't make Miss Finster like him again when he couldn't even tattle on anyone. Besides, he was also worried that his dad would be upset at him for losing his job in the first place.

"No," Randall mumbled behind his arm. He used his spoon to start pushing some of the mac and cheese back into a smaller mountain and squished the rest down flat. Randall could feel his dad watching him for a moment.

"Are you upset because your mother couldn't make it home?"

"No," Randall said a little more forcefully than he had to as he slammed the edge of his spoon down on one of the noodles, slicing it right in half. He didn't want to talk about what happened!

"You know your mother is very busy. I know she said she could make it in time to eat with us, but she should be here before your bedtime. And she should be home in time tomorrow."

Randall cut up several more noodles with his spoon before finally lifting his head. "Dad, can I just go to bed?"

He didn't have to look up at his dad to know he was frowning. "But you haven't eaten anything…" He sighed. "…I guess…"

The boy wasted no time hopping out of his seat and heading towards the door.

"Don't you want anything to eat? We have pickles!"

Randall paused. He did really love pickles, but today he just didn't feel like eating. "I'm not really hungry." He quickly left the kitchen and went up the stairs to his room. Once he got up there he made sure to close his door before collapsing on his bed.

He didn't really want to think about it, he really didn't, but he just couldn't seem to stop his thoughts.

Miss Finster had replaced him. He was no longer the school's snitch. Not only that, but now she liked Douglas.

Now that he was by himself, Randall couldn't help but think about Douglas. How Douglas would get to sit with Miss Finster during lunch now. She'd probably even share half of her sardine and pickle sandwich with him! Douglas would get to spy on other kids for her. He'd get to follow her around and tell on them. He'd not only get cookies and stuff from the lost and found box, but even some of the things Miss Finster confiscates from the other kids. Douglas would get to help Miss Finster keep the other kids in line and he'd get to use the megaphone and even help her out in class. He'd be Miss Finster's favorite now.

But what about Randall? Without Miss Finster, he didn't have anyone to eat lunch with and he'd have to sit alone. And what would he do during recess? If the other kids figured out that he didn't have her to back him up any more, well, he was sure there would be plenty of kids who would want to get back at him for tattling on them. They certainly wouldn't want to play with him. And he wouldn't have any of the power of his special position that he had when he helped Miss Finster. He'd just be another kid.

A kid with no friends.

He knew that earlier he said he didn't need friends – and he still didn't – but now that he didn't even have Miss Finster, he couldn't help but think that it would be really nice to have someone to talk to.

His eyes started to feel wet and his throat constricted painfully as a wave of loneliness crashed over him. He was all alone. He wasn't like all the other kids now because at least they had friends. Randall whimpered and pressed his face into the bed until the feeling disappeared.

When it finally passed he turned his head and spotted a lion cub plush on his night table. His mom had gotten it for him a long time ago. Most of the time he didn't notice it since it had just been sitting on his table for so long, but now it just seemed to catch his eye. Of course, he didn't sleep with it; it was only on his table, not his bed.

Randall pushed himself off of the bed and grabbed it before sitting back down on his bed. He looked down at the embroidered face and felt the fabric under his fingers. He wasn't sure why exactly he felt like picking up the stuffed animal, but the soft material and the cute, embroidered face was comforting and it seemed to help keep the feelings of loneliness away.

For as long as he could remember he had been Randall: the school snitch. But now that wasn't true anymore. Now he wasn't any more important than the other kids. They didn't get all of the perks he did. Other kids didn't get to use the megaphone or get keys to rooms that only a few people had access to, or even get to be in charge of the ball bin. He didn't want to be just another kid!

He hated Douglas. It was all his fault that he was alone and unimportant now. Why did Douglas have to take Miss Finster from him? Didn't he already have enough friends?! Why did he have to leave Randall with none?!

Suddenly, he realized he was squeezing the lion plush and immediately stopped. It was just a toy, but Randall felt a bit bad for hurting it. He was mad at Douglas, not the toy! He placed it back on the table.

He needed to take his anger out on the right person: Douglas. If he was going to take Miss Finster from Randall then Randall was going to make his life a living nightmare. He grinned at the thought of getting back at the fiend and jumped up off the bed as his mind was flooded with ideas. One of which involved tricking Douglas and then shooting him out of a cannon.

But that wasn't really possible. Where could he even get a cannon? He needed something a little more realistic.

Maybe he could still expose Douglas's evil plot to Miss Finster. Randall doubted it would be enough to get rid of him if she liked Douglas better, but maybe it could at least sow a seed of doubt. Maybe it would make her like him less.

Suddenly, an idea came to him and he ran over to his backpack to pull out paper and a pen. TJ was always drawing out his plans. Maybe it would be helpful for Randall too. Maybe he could actually pull this off. Even by himself!

He started drawing out his plan on the paper. It was messy and it didn't really come out the way he wanted. By the time he finished it, it just seemed horrible. He just kept seeing all of the things that were wrong with it. The tiny things that he didn't think about before that ruined it and made it impossible. So, he threw it out and started a new one.

None of the next several plans turned out right either, but he kept working on it, only stopping twice. The first time was when he realized it was his bedtime. He got ready for bed and continued to work under the covers by flashlight. The second time, his mom came in to check on him. He quickly hid the papers, pen, and flashlight and pretended to be fast asleep. It seemed to work because she didn't stay long. As soon as she was gone, he pulled everything out again to keep working.

It was hours later when Randall rubbed at his eyes and looked down at his latest idea. After so many failures his spirits, had dropped. He wasn't sure if this was _the_ one, but it was the best he had. When he tried to go over it again in his head it all just became a blur. He was just too tired to concentrate on it anymore. So, he placed it next to his backpack and finally went to sleep.

* * *

It wasn't hard for Menlo to find Randall during recess. After he looked through his office window and didn't see the redhead with Miss Finster or on the playground there were few other places he knew he could be. That was how Menlo ended up going around the school building and towards an area he usually avoided at all costs: The dumpsters. There, he found Randall crouched down behind the big, metal bin, looking out at the playground.

Menlo hesitated for a moment. What if Randall was still upset after yesterday? He even debated turning around and going back to the office, but he finally stepped forward.

"Uh, Randall?"

Randall nearly fell over in shock before turning and glaring at Menlo. "What do you want?" He folded up a paper Menlo hadn't noticed before and shoved it into his pocket before sitting down and crossing his arms.

Menlo took a deep breath. "I…I just wanted to apologize. For yesterday. I should have listened –"

"Yeah, you should have!"

Menlo nearly stumbled back in shock as Randall just sat there, glaring straight ahead and not even glancing at him. Menlo stared down at his sneakers. What could he say to that? It was true. "Uh…yes." It took him a moment to remember what he had been about to say and he lifted his head to look at Randall. "But…but I'm here now and if you need help…well…I'm here," he finished lamely. He thought he saw something in Randall's expression change, but it was gone so quickly, he wasn't sure if maybe he didn't imagine it.

"Yeah, well, I don't need your help. I know exactly what I'm doing. And how. And…and everything!"

Menlo was silent for a moment. "Oh." He thought for sure that Randall would still need help. He was all ready to give advice or go into rooms Randall didn't have access to, to help his friend out. And to get back at Douglas for the both of them. But now, none of it mattered. "Well then…I guess I'll leave you to it…" He turned and started to walk away. It was unfortunate that he couldn't help Randall but –

Suddenly, something was around his ankles, causing him to lose his footing. He cried out and swung his arms around, trying to grab onto something and keep from falling over.

"Don't go!" Randall exclaimed desperately as he clung to Menlo's ankles, "I lied I don't know what I'm doing I need help don't go!" It all came out in one breath. "Please!"

"Okay! Okay! Just let go!" Randall finally unwrapped his arms from around Menlo's ankles and got up off of the ground. Menlo caught his balance again and turned to see the other boy looking out at the playground once more.

Well, it seemed like he was staying. He searched the ground for somewhere clean he could sit down, but nowhere looked to be particularly neat, so he just settled for sitting down next to Randall, making sure to keep some distance between himself and the dumpster.

Menlo waited for him to say something, to tell him if he had a plan or what help he needed, but he wouldn't talk. "So?" he prodded.

Randall sat back down with his back against the dumpster and stared down at his hands in his lap. "Douglas stole my job," Randall said bitterly, and Menlo frowned. He already knew that. He started to open his mouth to say so, but Randall beat him to it. "He used his stupid friends." Menlo's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he waited for Randall to continue. "They've been following me around and keeping me from telling on people. Then he came in and stole it!" The redhead wrapped his arms around his knees and glared hard at the ground.

"But then –" Menlo's eyes widened and he looked around frantically for someone hiding in the shadows.

Randall just waved off his concern. "Don't worry. Once I figured out that they were following me, it wasn't too hard to lose them," he said with more than a hint of smugness. "But we have to stay here or inside so we can't be seen from the top of Old Rusty."

Menlo relaxed a little, but he was still worried that one of Douglas's friends might find them. "Well, why don't you just tell Miss Finster that?"

Randall's expression grew dark. "Like she'd believe me. Douglas is her favorite now. She wouldn't believe me over him."

"I doubt he's her favorite. You two have—"

"No. I saw it myself! She said he did a good job and she gave him cookies. And she even patted him on the head!" Randall pulled his knees in closer and stared down at them. "Miss Finster always used to do that to _me_, but now…it's like she doesn't even remember me! And if even she doesn't remember me…" Randall's expression darkened. "I might as well stay here during recess from now on. Maybe at least then I'd be remembered as Dumpster Kid…or something…"

Menlo's shoulders sank. He didn't like seeing Randall moping like this. He didn't think anyone would forget Randall, but apparently Randall did. There had to be something he could say to make the other boy feel better. Something to snap him out of this morbid mood. But everything he thought of just didn't sound good enough. Luckily, it seemed like he didn't need to.

Randall didn't look any happier, but he pulled the paper out of his pocket. "I did come up with a plan…" He unfolded it and looked at it. "I don't know how I can make it work though."

"Let me see it." Menlo gently took the paper away from him. He hoped that he could tell Randall that it would be easy to do and that they'd have everything back to normal in no time. That would make Randall happy.

The blueprint for Randall's plan was crudely drawn. It kind of looked like the ones that TJ made that got confiscated. Menlo guess that Randall probably had those in mind when he made it. There were parts of the plan where Randall couldn't possibly do it by himself. There were other parts that would need research and materials. Menlo though he could get the materials easily enough.

He lowered the paper and smiled. Randall pushed himself up, his eyes wide and filled with hope. "Well, I'm glad to say that I think this plan is doable."

Randall couldn't help but grin now. "Really?!" Menlo nodded and the redhead's grin grew devious. "Moist."

Menlo grinned back at him. "Indeed." He quickly became more sober and Randall's grin died down. "But…first, we're going to have to go to the library."

"…Not moist."

* * *

The Ashleys all stood outside of their clubhouse, each of them holding a porcelain doll. Ashley A. stood in front of the group, glaring at Douglas.

"Well, I won't say anything if you give me those Coco Creamies," the boy said with a sneer.

Ashley A. cried out in shock. "What?! No!"

Douglas merely shrugged. "Fine, I'll just go tell Miss Finster about how you all brought dolls to school." The Ashleys all pulled their dolls close to their chests, trying to protect them. "She might even let me have one of them…" He started to turn to go do just that.

"No!" the girls cried out, nearly in unison.

Douglas stopped and grinned at them, holding out his hand for the bag of cookies. Ashley A. sighed in defeat and held her hand out behind her and Ashley Q. handed her the bag. "You're, like, as big a slime ball as Randall," Ashley A. told Douglas.

Douglas glared at her and snatched the bag out of her hand. "Thank you, ladies." He turned and left before they could say anything.

Once he was out of their sight, he opened the bag and looked inside. It was almost completely filled with cookies, with only a couple missing. It was a lot more than he would have gotten if he'd just snitched on them to Finster. Unfortunately, he couldn't go snitch on them now, because then they wouldn't give him their cookies next time. Still, he'd rather have a whole bag of Coco Creamies than just a couple of chocolate chips. As long as he handed in enough snitch reports to Finster she wouldn't get mad at him for missing a few things.

Douglas spotted Lizzie over on the swings and headed towards her. She looked up at him from her walkie talkie and smiled. He smiled back at her, taking a cookie out of the bag, and held the bag out so she could take a cookie, too. She did and they both ate quietly.

Douglas frowned – Lizzie was being oddly quiet. They watched the playground together in an uncomfortable silence. As he watched the other kids he realized that he didn't see Matt anywhere. Usually, two of his friends would be out on the playground, following Randall around, but Lizzie was here so…

"Where's Randall?"

"He's inside."

"Still?" That meant Matt was hiding out somewhere near the school building, waiting for him to come out.

"Yeah."

That was odd. Randall had spent all of recess inside. Douglas was suspicious, but maybe it was a good thing. He had been trying to find something to blackmail Randall with in the permanent records room, when Menlo walked in on him. Unfortunately, because of that, he didn't find anything to make Randall give up. But this was better – if Randall was giving up on his own, then he'd be more likely to stay out of Douglas's way! Everything was going perfectly.

Douglas grinned and looked down at Lizzie, expecting her to look happy too, but, instead, she seemed upset. He frowned and held out the bag of cookies for her again. She didn't take one. "What's wrong?"

"Gilbert's still acting strange." She pushed herself up with her feet and swung lazily back and forth on the swing.

"Gilbert's always strange."

Lizzie scoffed and she almost seemed back to normal for a moment. "Yeah, but…you know what I mean…I'm starting to get a little worried."

Douglas didn't think there was any reason to worry. Gilbert had been acting weird since he'd asked to switch places with Matt. Since then, he'd refused to switch again. That wasn't weird in itself, but he'd also been quieter than usual, and not like Lizzie was currently. Gilbert had been almost jumpy. He'd been acting nervous and he was always glancing around like he expected something to leap out at him. _Whatever,_ Douglas thought, _Gilbert probably just got freaked out by some scary movie or something._ It didn't matter right now. Whatever it was, Douglas would deal with it later, when he was sure he didn't have to worry about Randall. He didn't get a chance to think more on it, though, because Menlo was headed right towards them.

The office boy had an aloof, almost-bored expression on his face as he stopped in front of then and took out a piece of paper. "Principal Prickly wants to see you in his office." He held out the slip and Douglas took it with a frown. Had he done something? "He wants to give you something."

Douglas read the paper and broke out into a grin. Prickly wanted to give him an award for catching so many wrong-doers! The thought that this was some kind of trick crossed his mind, but the note had the crooked 'f's that Ms. Lemon's typewriter was known for and it was on Principal Prickly's paper. He was sure the rule-orientated boy wouldn't make up this note. He handed the note over to Lizzie so she could see it.

It wouldn't do to have Menlo stay mad at him. The tie-wearing boy was actually taken seriously by the staff and the teachers and he could cause problems for Douglas. He also didn't change. "Uh…Look, I'm sorry about…uh…the permanent records room. I'll try not to make a mess next time." Douglas thought Menlo would just forgive him—it was just a mess after all—but, instead, he looked angry. Menlo really angry was an odd sight. One would think that it wouldn't be scary at all, laughable even, but there always seemed to be this weird, almost wild quality to him when he was really angry. It was because of this that Douglas didn't try saying anything else.

"Principal Prickly is expecting you," Menlo said, and left.

"What was that about?" Lizzie asked as she handed back the slip of paper.

"It doesn't matter. I'll tell you later." He gave her the bag of cookies and started to head towards the school building when he noticed that Lizzie still seemed upset. "Gilbert's fine. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about." She nodded, but she didn't look any better. Douglas didn't know what else to say, so he left and headed inside.

The school's hallway was empty and quiet. That wasn't odd for this time of day. Who would want to stay inside during recess? Prickly's office wasn't far. Douglas couldn't believe he'd won an award. It was amazing! He'd never won anything before. Everything was looking up for him.

A rustling sound echoed through the halls and he stopped. A quick glance around told him that he was still the only one in the hall…except for the recycling bin against the wall. There didn't seem to be anything strange about it. It was filled with various papers and a few plastic bottles. But then Douglas saw it. It was just innocently sticking out of the top, looking like a tiny satellite. Douglas knew it was a listening dish. He also knew of only one person that had one.

Douglas stormed over towards the bin. "Hey!"

The blue, plastic bin fell over with a loud crash, spilling its contents as Randall jumped out and ran away, dropping his headphones and the listening device.

That snitch! Trying to spy on him. Everything seemed to be going Douglas' way and now this?! And just before, he'd thought Randall had given up! He was an annoying pest. An annoying pest that was ruining everything! He'd gone through all of this trouble and he couldn't let it be ruined now. He clenched his fists and ran after the shorter boy. His award could wait a couple of minutes. He wouldn't feel that he completely deserved it until Randall was out of the way anyway.

He chased him and finally cornered him in the boys' room. The redhead was at the far side of the room, his chest heaving from the run. Strangely, he didn't seem as scared as Douglas would have expected him to be. Douglas closed the door, not wanting anyone to walk in on them. He was going to end this now.

Douglas crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the shorter boy. "What do you think you're doing? You aren't Finster's snitch anymore. You have no business spying on my. Or anyone."

Any fear that was still on Randall's face disappeared and he put his hands on his hips. "Maybe not, but that's not going to stop me from trying to catch people breaking the rules. That's what Miss Finster would want me to do. Then she'll give me my job back," he finished with a smirk.

Douglas almost growled. Why didn't he just give up? Didn't he see that it was a lost cause yet? He almost wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, it was so aggravating. "No, she won't because you won't be catching anyone!" He threw his hands up in the air in irritation. "And who even cares about what Finster wants?! She's just some old lady who's mean to everyone!"

Douglas, like everyone else at the school, never understood why Randall liked the old gargoyle. How could anyone actually want to follow her around and be told what to do? For Douglas, it was the part he had to suffer through. On the other hand, Randall's eyes were wide in shock, as if he couldn't imagine someone even thinking that about Miss Finster. Douglas couldn't help but smirk at the sight. This might have been better than shaking him. "You're just some pathetic, slimy little suck up! Maybe that's why she likes me better: because I'm not as pathetic as you!"

Douglas's smirk grew as he watched the other boy's eyes narrow and his hands tighten into fists at his sides. Randall's face was even starting to turn red. This was payback for all of the times he'd bothered other kids, Douglas specifically.

Randall stomped his foot down hard on the tile in anger. "No she's not! Miss Finster is the best teacher ever! She keeps everyone in line. The school needs her! I doubt she'd like you so much if she knew what you thought about her." There was a hint of doubt in Randall's voice, but, before Douglas could think about it, the other boy snapped out of his anger. He crossed his arms and smiled as Douglas frowned in confusion. "A-and I'm sure she'll stop liking you once I tell her and I'm back on my game. Then she'll take me back."

Douglas uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists. How stupid was this kid? "Don't you get it?! She's not ever going to take you back because you're never going to snitch on anyone ever again!"

"Ha! That's what you think!"

"No, it's what I know! And you can tell Miss Finster whatever you want. She's not going to believe some washed-up has-been like you. Not over me." He watched as Randall's eyes narrowed and his face flushed again. It gave him a thrill to finally have one up on the rat. He had the upper hand and there was nothing Randall could do about it. Without Finster, he didn't have anything. And he was going to make sure Randall understood that. "You're never going to get your job back. Know why? My friends and I have been warning anyone you try to spy on. You're never going to get a chance to tell on anyone ever again!"

"Then I'll just go tell Miss Finster that. I'm sure she'd love to know that her new snitch is a cheater," Randall said with a rather nasty grin. Apparently, he thought he had something on Douglas.

The taller boy rolled his eyes. "Even if Finster did believe you, what makes you think she'd even want back a whiny, annoying little sycophant like you?" Doubt started to cloud Randall's eyes as his grin disappeared. Douglas continued on. "That's why she likes me better. I don't follow her around and kiss up to her like some worm!" Randall frowned and his shoulders sank. He looked as unsure as Douglas had ever seen him. Good. Douglas grinned and walked towards him. "She's even said that I could get cookies from other kids in exchange for not telling on them because I've been doing so much better than you that she said it doesn't even matter," Douglas lied.

Randall was looking even more uncertain than before, biting his lip as his green eyes swept back and forth across the floor. Just a little more and Douglas was sure he'd destroy any thoughts of rebellion from his head. Douglas stepped closer to him and Randall stumbled back against the stall doors. "B-but—"

"And one more thing, ex-weasel—"

For a moment, Douglas thought that something had been ripped off of the bottom of his shoe. At least, that's what it sounded like. But then he realized that it was tape as something metallic clattered to the floor with an odd echo. He quickly found the source of the noise under the row of sinks: A microphone laid on the floor, a strip of tape still attached to it. The cord went up and must have been taped to the underside of the sinks.

Douglas had trouble comprehending what he was looking at. Sure, it was a microphone, but what was it doing here? Why was it taped up under the sinks? He almost felt like he had been dropped into some bizarre alternate world. He turned to Randall to demand some explanation. To his surprise, Randall had been saying something this whole time and he hadn't even noticed.

"…hooked up to the PA system. Miss Finster heard everything you said. Do you still think she wouldn't believe me?..."

He looked back at the microphone and everything clicked into place. He had been set up! Everything was ruined. His revenge, along with his plan to get cookies for himself and his friends, was all for nothing now. A whole week. There was no way Finster could just ignore this, not when it came out of his own mouth. She'd fire him for sure. He turned back to the other boy and everything else seemed to fall away. It was all Randall's fault. That little rat had tricked him! Randall looked as smug as ever. He thought he'd won. Douglas's nails dug into his palms.

Before Douglas even knew what he was doing, he was on top of the other boy. He realized his vision was blurry from tears of frustration, but he couldn't bring himself to care much. All he could think about was how Randall had messed up his plans yet again! He could still see the smug look Randall gave him after the last time. That wasn't going to happen again!

Without thinking, he lashed out with his fists, just missing Randall and hitting the tiles hard a few times. Douglas continued through the pain that shot up his arms, finally hitting the other boy. It was satisfying to get back at him, but it just wasn't enough. He raised his fist to hit him again, but instead he found himself on the receiving end as his vision turned to stars and bright lights. Finally he completely lost it. He started punching wildly, trying to hit as fast and as hard as he could. He wasn't even paying attention to if he was hitting Randall or not, but he just felt that he had to keep going until he gave out from exhaustion.

"Douglas!"

.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Randall was almost relieved when the mike fell. He felt like he was trapped in a downward spiral. Was what Douglas said true? What he saw earlier with Miss Finster almost seemed like proof, but Menlo had told him not to worry about it. He couldn't help but think about it, though. Was Miss Finster really saying that about him? Did she really think Douglas was so much better than him? Randall knew he had Menlo helping him, but he started to feel alone again. If it was all true then this plan wouldn't help at all. Miss Finster might even be mad at him for messing with the PA system. He might even get detention. And worse than that, she'd be really disappointed in him.

The loud boom as the microphone fell to the floor finally snapped him out of it. He couldn't let Douglas get to him like this. He was undercover – as himself, only not knowing about Douglas's plan! He had a mission! He had already goaded the other boy into telling him his whole plan. He couldn't let him win now by messing around with his mind! The third rule of spying was not letting the enemy get into your head. Or, at least, it was now that he made it up.

Douglas stared down at the microphone in confusion and Randall smirked. "I've got you now! That microphone is hooked up to the PA system." He couldn't help himself. He knew gloating rarely turned out well on TV, but, well, he already had everything he needed. Douglas couldn't do anything. "Miss Finster heard everything you said. Do you still think she wouldn't believe me? I think she will." Randall crossed his arms, trying to seem more confident than he felt. Fourth rule of spying was looking like everything was going perfectly. Inside, he couldn't help worrying that Miss Finster would still rather have Douglas over him.

But right now, Randall had leverage over Douglas for once. The other boy looked like he was going to explode. He was even starting to tear up. Now the shoe was on the other foot and Douglas was the one who was miserable.

Before Randall could say anything, the taller boy cried out and jumped at him, knocking him down.

"Hey!" Randall cried out as he hit the ground. He was stunned for a moment as Douglas started throwing punches. Randall's eyes widened in fright and he barely managed to dodge the other boy's fists. "Stop!" Stars danced in front of him as he was finally hit. He tried to push the pain out of his mind. He couldn't just let Douglas do this. He'd already taken his job and Miss Finster from him and he'd insulted her to boot. He couldn't just let him beat him up too!

Randall swung up desperately and was surprised to find that he had actually hit Douglas right in the face. For a split second, he thought that maybe he'd won. That the other boy would get off of him and run off. But then he realized that he just looked even angrier. His heart leapt up into his throat as he realized the trouble he was in.

Randall threw his arms up over his face just as he was barraged by more punches. He arms quickly started to throb and he whimpered in fear. His heart was pounding hard in his chest and he felt trapped. Randall wasn't sure how much longer he could stand it. He wanted to move his arms away, but that would mean getting hit in the face. He was too scared to move at all.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he heard the doorknob turn and the door creak as it opened.

"Douglas!"

The other boy was pulled off of Randall, who scrambled to get up.

"Keep your hands off of my favorite student!" Miss Finster had Douglas by the back of his shirt. He looked like a mess; his face was wet from tears and he was struggling in her grip. "But it's all his fault! He ruined everything!" Douglas cried out, stomping his foot and pointing at Randall. Menlo quietly slipped into the room and turned off the microphone before going back to stand by the open door. Randall was very glad that Menlo brought Miss Finster over in time. Neither of them had expected Douglas to attack him like that, and Randall wasn't sure what he would have done if she wasn't here.

Then it hit him.

Her favorite?

Fear and relief all seemed to hit him at once and his eyes started to prickle with tears.

"That's enough out of you, Douglas! Now go to Principal Prickly's office. I'll be following you," Miss Finster said as she pushed him towards the door. Douglas grumbled and stormed out of the room, stopping only to glare at Menlo. Menlo didn't say anything and just glared back.

Randall was a little out of it, staring at where he just saw Douglas when Miss Finster gently grabbed his arm and helped him stand.

"Randall, are you alri—"

"Do you really mean it? Am I still your f-favorite?" He looked up at her hopefully. He didn't want to cry in front of Miss Finster, but it didn't matter if she didn't like him anymore.

Miss Finster looked surprised. Instead of answering him immediately, she turned to Menlo. "Menlo, get some paper." Menlo ran into one of the stalls and Miss Finster pulled Randall over to the sinks. Randall was starting to get worried when Menlo came back and handed her a perfectly folded piece of paper before going back by the door. "Of course you're my favorite, Randall," she said in a gentler tone that he rarely ever heard from her. It made it harder for him to swallow. "Nothing's going to change that." She started drying his eyes with the tissue. "We're team, remember? Like liver and onions. And you can't break up liver and onions. Do you understand?" Randall nodded and sniffled. Miss Finster threw out the paper and turned to Menlo. "I'm going to make sure that Douglas goes to the office. Menlo, see to it that Randall goes to the nurse."

"Yes, ma'am."

Miss Finster walked out, leaving the two boys alone.

Randall leaned back against the sinks and let out a breath he hadn't even know he was holding. He couldn't believe it. Miss Finster still liked him. They were still a team! He grinned. Everything Douglas said was a lie. There was even nothing wrong with his spying. Everything would be back to normal.

Suddenly, he felt an arm across his back and he glanced up at Menlo beside him. Well, things weren't completely back to normal. Menlo had helped him. So, were they friends now? Did Menlo even want to be his friend?

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Even as Randall said it he realized that he was really tired and his face and arms hurt where he was hit. He leaned against Menlo in exhaustion. "Actually, I think I'm ready to go to the nurse."

Menlo nodded and carefully led him out of the bathroom.

* * *

**Author's Note: Just the epilogue left.**


	3. Epilogue

"Miss Finster! Miss Finster!"

Randall ran up to her. He was grinning and hopping up and down in front of her in excitement.

"Yes, yes, Randall. What is it?" The boy managed to stop his bouncing. Everything was just like how it was before. Randall was Miss Finster's right-hand man and he was catching people breaking rules left and right.

"I caught TJ and his friends with a toy from home," he started without even having to look down at the pile of snitch reports in his hands. It felt good to get back to what he liked doing. "And Douglas and _his_ stupid friends had a whole bunch of candy!" That one felt especially moist. Douglas had gotten suspended after what he did, but it didn't seem like enough to Randall. He'd taken special care to make sure he followed Douglas around just a bit more since he'd come back to school. "And Skeens was drawing horrible graffiti of you on the side of the school. And that's not even all of it!" Randall looked down at his papers to start reading them off. He only had the first few memorized.

"That's enough. Hand it here." Randall handed her the papers and she started reading through them. "Hm…Good…Good…" She lowered the reports and pulled two chocolate chip cookies out. "Good boy, Randall. You did a very good job," she told him as she handed him the cookies and patted him on the head.

Randall grinned even wider and beamed with pride. This is what he was meant to do. It was what he was best at. And it was where he was meant to be. He wasn't going to let Douglas or anyone else take it away from him ever again.

His attention was diverted by the school doors opening. Menlo walked out, stretched, and walked onto the playground. He took his glasses off and started cleaning them.

Randall looked up at Miss Finster nervously. "Er…Miss Finster?"

"Hm?" She was still going through his reports.

"I was wondering…since…since I already caught so many kids today, could I…take a break?"

Miss Finster finally looked away from the papers and stared at him for a moment. Randall was worried that she would say no. He'd only just come back to his job. What if she decided he didn't want his job enough because he wanted a break so soon? What if she thought he wasn't happy to be back?

Finally, she answered. "Yes, you've done a lot today. Take a break." Randall grinned again and as Miss Finster walked off to catch all of the miscreants, he ran over to the other boy. "Hey, Menlo!"

Menlo jumped in surprise and put his glasses back on. "Oh! Hello, Randall. I believe I've completely caught up with all of my filing. I got a little behind after helping you, but I've finished now."

Randall hadn't really had a chance to talk to Menlo since exposing Douglas's plot and he wasn't even sure if the other boy wanted to be his friend still. He looked down at the two cookies in his hands. He didn't want to give one up. They were his and he earned them fair and square! But more than that, he wanted Menlo to be his friend.

Randall hesitated before holding one of the cookies out for the taller boy. "Do you want a cookie?"

Menlo's eyes widened in surprise. "Y-Yes, thank you!" He took the cookie and they ate together.

"So, Menlo…Want to play tetherball?" Randall gestured towards the tetherball poles, specifically one that was unoccupied.

Menlo was quiet for a moment. "Yes…. Alright then. Yes, that sounds like fun!" Menlo repeated and smiled. Randall couldn't help smiling back at his friend.

The two 4th graders talked as they headed over to the tetherball court and played together for the rest of recess.

* * *

**Author's Note: The end! Please review if you liked it or if there's something wrong, so I can fix it.**


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